Mothers and Daughters
by addictedtolove92
Summary: Fast forward a few years . . .


**Summary: Fast forward 5 years where mother/daughter 'disagreements' are painfully relevant.**

**Mothers and Daughters**

"I **hate **you!"

_**Slam!**_

Olivia Benson-Amaro sees red as the almighty slam resonates throughout the entire upstairs of her home and rattles the walls. The large family picture on the wall next to Zara's bedroom door falls to the hardwood floor, its glass encasing shattering to a million tiny pieces. The look on Olivia's face would make the devil himself think twice as she makes her way down the hall to her oldest daughter's bedroom. She places her hand on the cold, silver knob and tries to turn it only to discover that it has been locked from the other side. If she wasn't mad before, the woman is at her boiling point now.

"Zara Danielle Amaro," Liv begins, her voice tinged with rage, "you have until the count of **three **to open this door. One . . . two . . . three!"

With a grumble that penetrates her bedroom walls, the unruly 15 year old pulls the door open which only proves to anger her mother more.

_One situation at a time, Liv, _she tells herself pushing into the bombsite that is Zara's bedroom.

"Mom!"

"Don't say a word," Olivia says so coolly that it takes the teenager aback. "You have _one second _to grab the broom and the dustpan to clean up all that glass on the floor."

"I—"

"Not. A. Word," she declares.

Zara stares at her, her hard exterior crumbling to pieces before both of their eyes.

"Go."

Arms folded across her chest, Zara exits her bedroom to retrieve the two cleaning supplies while Olivia waits. It takes her a little over five minutes to get the mess cleaned up and thrown away, and then she cautiously reemerges. Olivia looks just as upset as before and it does nothing to convince Zara that she's not in deep trouble with her.

"Mom—"

Teenagers are different creatures, Olivia is learning that as Zara continues to grow and change. With her mood swings and her many emotional conflicts, she and Nick hardly ever know which Zara they're going to wake up to. Sometimes she wonders where her sweet little girl has gone, then for a brief moment—out of the blue—she'll rear her pretty little head. That being said, most of the time—these days anyway—this is the Zara she gets; the Zara that slams doors, and screams at her younger siblings, that disobeys her parents, and makes life more difficult than it should be. Olivia's not naïve, though, she knows that this is what she signed up for when she became a parent, she knows that it's all a part of growing up for young Zara. Of course that's no excuse.

Olivia and Nick are pretty strict parents—and considering what they've seen on their jobs, it's more than understandable. What's also understandable is Zara's distaste for their pretty severe rules and parenting methods. But when a child—specifically, a child of her own—blatantly disrespects her in any way, there will always be consequences.

"I have no idea what's gotten into you lately, young lady, but that little show you just put on will **not **be tolerated in this house. Do you understand me?"

"Yea," is Zara's reply as she avoids Olivia's glare.

"Yea?"

Zara sighs. "Yes mom," she tries again.

"I want this room cleaned _right now. _I mean from top to bottom. That doesn't mean throwing stuff in your closet; it means I want your clothes out of those laundry baskets and put into your drawers **neatly**. And you need to vacuum and dust," she says as she walks further into the space stopping at the closet which she opens.

Zara's closet is a mess; she has a few pieces of clothing hung up—her homecoming dress and a random shirt—and the rest are in piles on the floor.

"This closet is atrocious; you need to hang up these clothes—"

"I'll do it when I get back—"

Olivia looks at her daughter and frowns. "Do you think you're going _anywhere _with your room like this? Not to mention the fact that your chores have yet to be done."

"But I have plans mom," Zara answers.

"Consider your plans cancelled."

Zara scoffs. "We've been planning this for _ages, _mother!"

"Hanging out with your friends is a privilege, it's something you earn. For the past few weeks your father and I have had to practically beg you to get anything done around here. Therefore you've lost some of your privileges."

"This is so unfair."

"Life is unfair. I'll be back in an hour to check your progress."

Olivia turns around and walks to the door but stops with her hand on Zara's cluttered desk. Her arm reaches out and lands on Zara's phone. "I'll be taking this."

"You can't take that," Zara exclaims, "it's mine."

Liv turns back around to face her. "I am your mother—"

"You're not my mother," the teenager blurts before she can stop it.

As a mother, Olivia knows that teenagers are a difficult species. She knows that they say things that they don't mean and that they don't always think rationally. At 15 Zara has said a lot of things, but nothing that she's ever said has been taken to heart. Except now.

Olivia stares at her, a series of emotions flashing across her face. The two that are most prominent, that Zara recognizes more than anything are those of shock and hurt and her tough exterior sheds. She's immediately sorry.

"Mom . . . I—"

"Clean your room," Liv replies and leaves her daughter's room.

**OoOoO**

"We don't want too many chocolate chips in the batter, Stel."

"Why not? I love chocolate," Stella replies attempting to pour some more of the candies into the dough.

"Because you're not the only one who has to eat the cookies. Daddy and Sammy don't like extra-chocolatey chocolate chip cookies."

Stella shrugs. "Me, you, and Zara like 'extra-chocolatey chocolate chip cookies.'"

Olivia smiles. "We have to be fair."

"We can make them their own special batch."

"Maybe next time, for now though," Liv answers taking the bag out of her young daughter's hands, "what we have is more than enough."

As Olivia sticks the bag into a canister, she hears the front door open and Nick telling their son to take off his shoes.

"I smell something delicious in the kitchen," Nick sing-songs.

It's a good sign; practice must've gone pretty well.

"I can't decide if it's the food or my wife," he adds finally appearing.

Olivia smiles at her two boys. "I take it you did good."

"Yep," Sammy nods, hopping up on a barstool. "Now I'm hungry."

Sammy dips his finger into the cookie dough batter eliciting a disgusted look from both his parents and sister.

"Eeew Sammy, that's gross!" Stella exclaims shoving his hand away from the bowl.

But it's too late, Sammy's finger is already covered with the sweet dough with a nice amount of chocolate chips stuck to it.

"You know better Sam," Nick chastises him. "Go wash your hands."

Sammy just smiles that patented smug Amaro smile and sticks his finger into his mouth. Olivia chuckles as he hops down and disappears into the hall.

"Are we gonna put 'em on the pan yet mommy?"

"Not yet. You need to go and help Zara with the living room."

"Do I have to?" Stella whines. "She's so grouchy today."

"Yes you have to," Nick answers for his wife. "Just avoid eye contact and don't speak to her."

The little girl sighs. "Okay."

Nick watches the child leave the room, then averts his gaze back to Liv. He immediately feels that something is off. It's not noticeable to the naked eye, but he knows his wife like the back of his hand.

"So are you gonna tell me what's wrong or will I have to pry it out of you?"

Olivia looks up at him as she covers the bowl of cookie dough with saran wrap. It doesn't surprise her that he knows something's wrong but it always catches her off guard.

"And don't say nothing like you always do. Just make it easier for me and spit it out babe."

She sighs.

"What's wrong?"

". . . Zara and I had a little . . . _disagreement_ today."

"That's nothing out of the ordinary. Everything with Zara is a disagreement."

Liv turns on her heel with the bowl in her hands. She puts it into the refrigerator and walks to the stove. Nick's eyes follow her, waiting patiently for her to elaborate.

"What happened Liv? You're hurt, I can see that, so what did she say?"

She sighs again, stirring the small pot of gravy she has going. "It's stupid."

Tired of her avoiding contact, Nick sidles up beside her. He pulls the spoon out of her hand and sets it aside, then takes her arm and turns her so that she is looking at him. "What happened?"

". . . She said that I'm not her mother."

"What?"

"I told you, it's stupid—"

"It's not stupid, Liv. What's 'stupid' is that she said that to you. You've been more of a mother to her than Maria's ever been. **You **are Zara's mother."

"I know she just said it to hurt me, she's being a 15 year old girl."

"That doesn't make it okay. Her behavior lately has been horrible. I'm gonna go talk to her."

". . . Nick—"

"Liv, this has gone far enough. She's crossed a line and now I'm gonna set her straight."

**OoOoO**

Word vomit.

It's a disease she's suffered from for a while now. She hardly ever thinks before she speaks and she always says what's on her mind. Her parents call it 'talking back', but it's something she just can't help no matter how hard she tries. But seeing that look on her mother's face, the hurt, she knows now that she needs to try harder.

"We need to talk," is all Nick says as he closes his daughter's bedroom door.

"Well hello to you too," she mumbles plopping down on her bed.

"Enough with the attitude, Zara, and sit up."

". . . You don't have to give me a speech about what I said. I know I was wrong, I'm sorry, blah, blah—"

"That's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Dad—"

"I'm talking right now. I have no idea what's gotten into you, but whatever it is, you need to fix it and fast. Your mother and I are tired of having to tell you to do your chores and we're tired of the talking back. You are a part of this family, Zara, and you have responsibilities. We expect you to pull your weight around here and I think that's a small price to pay for everything we do for you."

"And I think that your rules are stupid. You never let me do anything. I hardly ever get to hang out with my friends or have fun. You guys always make me hang out with you as a family. Do you know how frustrating that is? I see all my friends hanging out and having fun and I'm stuck with my parents and little brother and sister. It sucks."

"Well, Zara, I'm sorry that you feel that way. But you haven't exactly given us any proof that you are mature enough to do all of that stuff. I bet your friends clean their rooms and do their chores without their parents having to be on their backs about it."

Zara looks away from her father.

"We know you're a teenager, Zee, and with that comes attitude, but you need to reel it in or the next time you'll be going anywhere with your friends will be on your 21st birthday . . . And for the record, what you said to mom _was _wrong. You hurt her feelings. She loves you more than anything in the world and I think you know that, don't you?"

She nods. "Yes."

"I'll let you figure out what you should do about that while you finish cleaning up."

Nick stands up and walks to the door.

"And you're grounded. Your mother and I will talk about how long and we'll get back to you."

"Fine."

**OoOoO**

"I put your dinner in the microwave," Olivia tells Zara as she walks silently into the kitchen.

"Thanks," she mumbles walking over to the device.

Once she grabs her plate, she sets it down on the island and sits on a barstool. It's obvious that her appetite is shot seeing how she's picking at the chicken.

"Stella and I made some chocolate chip cookies. They're in the jar over there."

"Cool."

Tension fills the space as the room goes silent once again.

". . . Mom?"

"Yea Zara?"

". . . Even though I'm really annoyed with you right now—"

"The feeling's mutual."

Zara rolls her eyes. ". . . I'm really sorry for what I said earlier today. You're a good mother . . . and I love you . . . a lot."

Liv gives her a small smirk. "I love you a lot too, sweetheart."

". . . Do you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you."

"But?"

"No buts, Zara. You're my daughter, no matter what. Adoption doesn't make it less real; you are as much mine as Sammy and Stella."

". . . How?"

Olivia stops what she's doing and looks into Zara's curious eyes. She never thought she'd ever be having this conversation with the girl, but since she's so fascinated . . .

"What do you mean, 'how?'"

"How can I be as much yours as Sammy and Stella? You actually _had _them, I was just part of the deal—"

"Zara . . . You are **so **much more than that."

Liv puts her spoon aside and circles the island so that she is next to her unsure child.

"I've never seen you as 'part of the deal'."

"But that's the truth."

Olivia sits on the stool next to Zara's as she continues picking at her food. She's never gotten an inkling that Zara felt that way and that hurts more than her saying that she's not her mom.

"It's not the truth."

"So it didn't bother you?"

"Absolutely not."

She's allowing Zara to navigate the conversation in order to gauge how she's feeling, but it bothers her that she feels this way and she's never known.

"But I don't look like you Stella and Sammy or—"

"Look at me."

Stubborn, as usual, Zara's attention remains on her plate. Liv smiles at this and gently turns the girl's head with her finger on her chin.

"You're so stubborn and hard-headed . . . and you _love _any and everything chocolate. You hate scary movies, but you watch them anyway with me and dad. You like playing sports, but you don't usually watch them . . . I'm stubborn and hard-headed and I love chocolate even more than you do. I hate scary movies, but I love cuddling up with your dad to watch them. And when I was your age, I ran track, played a little basketball, and I even tried the cheerleading thing—just like you . . . I hate to break it to you, Zee, but **you **are my daughter; my firstborn, and I love you so much. I need you to know that.

I didn't carry you like Sam and Stella, or hold you as a baby. But I did get to read you stories and from ages 4-6 I held you and rocked you to sleep. I read you stories and tucked you into bed. I nursed you back to health when you were sick and so much more. I am your mother and I will continue to be your mom, even when you're all grown up with a family of your own. You're my baby."

Zara looks into her mother's eyes, her own clouding with tears. She hates to cry, just like her mother, but it happens anyway. Zara leans into her mother and wraps her arms around her neck.

"Love you too mom."

**end**

**Disclaimer: I do not own LAW AND ORDER: SVU **or its characters. But I DO own Stella and Sammy, with their cute selves.


End file.
